how not to meet
by marsupeler
Summary: The end of season one (agents of SHIELD), Coulson finds out that Clint Barton is MIA, before the whole Hydra thing, and he wants to get his family back. No Slash, written in middle of the night. Review, fav, follow, whateves
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I'm making some cahnges because I keep Fitz-Simmons together, it's for the best.**

 **CHAPTER ONE:**

"Now i will be unstop-" A blast of blue light and the renewed cybertech, cyborg had impolded in a million peices.

"I found it, knew it was in here." Coulson, Agent of SHIELD, said, walking out with a Hydra death ray.

They all went up to the Bus and loaded in, had their reunion with Simmons and Fitz **,** and Fury had just given Coulson Director-ship of SHIELD to Coulson. Though there was one more thing Coulson wanted to know.

"I'll be off soon." Nick Fury said, as he packed the little things he did have up into a small bag.

"One more thing." Coulson said. "Barton and Romanauf? Are they... are they behaving?" It was an odd question, and his teammates gave him odd looks, save malinda may, but he had to knew. He knew what it was like to have something sift through your mind, but he didn't know what it was to be mind-controled by the same alien septor that ripped his heart in two.

"They took it pretty hard. 'sspecailly Barton, but they are fine, last time I checked. Might want to check in on them though. Romanauf joined the CIA, something new, but Barton. He was in the middle of an op, and I haven't heard him surface." Nick said.

"Where was he posted at?" Coulson suddenly got on edge, Barton my look tuff and bad-ass, but he was just a kid with a bad-past. He was barely 25, being a soilder at 16, and a SHIELD agent at 17. Was at a circus before then, and orphanges before that. He origanated in a bad home too.

"Middle-east." Fury said, and Coulson groaned, making his team look at him weirdly again. "Yeah, he wasn't so thrilled himself."

"No kidding." Phil huffed. "We should go see if we can uncover him, get his sorry ass back to Romanauf, and makes sure he stays there." Fury nodded, and then he vanished, not really, but it felt like it.

"So, you know birdy?" Trip laughed, but receiving a deadly glare from the new Director of SHIELD.

"Hawkeye? I was his Handler, I brought him in, and I'm gonna find him." Coulson said.

"Woah, you mean like, shoot-shoot-arrow-guy? You where his handler?" Skye asked.

"Yep, technically I still am, but since I died...well. I was also Black Widow's handler, but Clint was her S.O." Coulson explained with a wave of his hand. "And if Barton hasn't reported from the Middle-East, than something is wrong. May, set the corrdanices. Skye, we need those corrdences." Clouson said.

Oh how Phil Coulson was right. Clint Barton, about two months earlier was in Stark's tower, working out with the Caption, when hs phone started to buzz like crazy.

Mission: Iran, Tehran, patental hostils, stake out only.

The text stared up at the world's best mark's man.

Wheel's up in 16.00

The phone buzzed again, three hours.

"Was that from SHIELD?" Steve asked, whipping none exstant sweat off his brow.

"Yep, I've got to go to the Middle East, least favorite place in the world." Clint huffed.

"Have fun." Steve said, glad it wasn't him.

That, like was said before, was two months ago. Clint Barton is still in Iran, underground, and freezing. Water dripped from his hair, sending chills down his back. His feet were raw and his body covered in cuts and bruises. He had multiple broken bones, and my have a minor concussion, but it was steadily growing bigger.

He was tied to the ceiling, his hands over his head, and the rest of his body, naked body, in a gaint tube of cold iced water, with ice cubes floating in it. He had been there for three days straight now. It was also his only source of water.

"You are strong." A man's thick voice wondered up to his hearing aids. Clint wished they weren't water proof, so they would have stopped working. "Most break within the first day."

"I'm not like most." Clint chuckled, but stopped when he got a punch to the face.

"Shut up." The man sneered. He grabbed Clint by the scruff of his neck, plunging his head into the water, and only bringing him back up once three minutes had past. "Where is the rest of your men?" He said in Clint's ear.

"N'one. J'st me." Hawkeye said, still catching his breath.

This went on for another few days, or hours, Clint had totally lost track of time. Though he did know there was no back up coming.


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER TWO:**

"He's in a mission in Tehran, Iran. Sex-slaves and drug trafficing. Has been there for two months, three weeks, 4days, and 5hrs." Skye relayed.

"Once we get there, how do we know where he is?" Trip asked Coulson.

"His aids. He has SHIELD hearng aids, because he was too good to let go. They made sure to put a tracker on it. A) he always losses them. B) to track trucks and people. C) cases like this." Coulson said.

"I'm on it." Skye said, hopping on her laptop and searching for the signal.

"The rest of you prep for feild. Who ever has Hawkeye is good." Coulson left the team to their own devices. Walking over to Skye, to make sure if she wasn't haveing any trouble.

"Who do you work for?" The man yelled.

" ma'ing i' lou'er 'oes'n' ma'e me wanna 'ell you." Clint slurred. He was high on drugs, narcotics, stimulants, and a whole lot of other stuff. Also a few of his back molers were ripped out pretty brutally.

"Who, stupid boy, do you work for?" The man asked agian.

" 'ap'ain known of your busness." Clint tried to glare, but he didn't have full control of his body.

"Clint, tell him what you were doing on the roof?" Grant Ward's voice, yet again, flooded his ears, but Clint refused to lesson.

" 'o 'oo h'll." Clint slurred, shooting Ward his most disgusded look he could pull off.

"Oh, but my fine, feathered friend, this is hell. The world is kneeling at Hydra's feet, and your precious SHIELD is gone, looked at like a terist agency. There is no one to save you, so jut join us." Ward said.

"Sh-shu' the hell up." Clint glared.

"Amor, continue." And the man did just that.

Hours more, more wounds, more blood, more...hurt, and Clint was thrown in his cell agian, chained to a post by his waist. The darkness on the edges of his mind.

"...clint...coulson...report..." Static and a few words filled his ears. His head shot up, scanning the whole place, but saw no one.

"Grea' 'm 'oing' 'razy." Clint sighed, and leaned his head against the wall. Blood coughed out of him, letting out a weak moan of pain.

"...report...barton...coulson...report..." Those words kept going through his head. The fuz was driving him nuts. "...coulson...report..."

" 'oulson 'ied." Clint said, pulling his knees up to his chest. "I 'illed h'm. An' now my ai/s are bro'en, than's to tha' s'upid..."

"Barton, it's Coulson, report now." The com started to clear up.

" 'oulson? Y-your 'ied." Clint said through his com, pressing it down to capture the link.

"No I'm not, Fury brought me back." Coulson was relieved, though he knew Clint must be in pain, and had lost a few teeth.

" 'ats im'ossible. I saw you, 'ree days af'er. 'ow 'o I know G'ant 'i'n't do this?" Clint scrowled at the invisible voice. "Say somethin' on'y 'oulson would know."

"Barton? What are you wearing?" Coulson waited a few minutes, his team mates looked at him with a weird look, as if he had just cost them their com link. Minutes past until the static came back on.

"A pair o' Romanuaf's un'erwear and s'lettos." Was the reply.

"A nice prestine suit, with a fake mustach and a sumbrao." Coulson smirked.

"How?" Clint's voice asked.

"TAHITI." Coulson said.

"I 'on't know wha' 'at is." Clint slurred, becoming more and more drowsy.

"Stay alert, soldier. What do you see?" Coulson said in a stern voice, not wanting Clint to loose conciousness and die.

"Sir, ye' 'ir." Came the tired voice. "I s'y, wif my li'l eye, dar' 'lay walls, and alo' o' beams holdin' up da roof." Clint smirked.

"I thought the coms where used for serous talking and situation reports?" Skye looked at everyone, only to see smirks on their faces.

"Not with Coulson and Barton. Once I stummbled onto their comm link and found them talking about different types of ceral." Fitz grinned.

"Oh." Skye said, looking back at her laptop. "I have a hold of his location." She said.

"Barton, we are on our way." Coulson said, but all he got was static. And then the talltale signs of waterboarding. A few minutes later, but it really felt like hours, Coulson heard coughing. "Deep breaths, kid."

"...Look at 'im. He is usless." A gruff man's voice said, and a thud came across the comm.

"Coulson seems to like him." Another voice said.

"Ward." Skye growled.

"Just get him up and don't kill him, not yet." Ward said.

"Barton?" Coulson said through the comm again.

"..."

"Report."

"..."

"Clint?"

"..."

"Kid?" Coulson was getting desperate.

"... 'm 'ired 'oulson..." Came the weak voice of Hawkeye.

"Kid stay together. We're coming to you." Coulson said.

"C-can' i's a 'rap." Clint said, his voice wavering from the cold and the pain.

"Stay with me kid." Coulson said. "Stay with me."


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER 3:**

Coulson had always been proud of the archer. Though right now he was the most proud. Three days, or at least three more, and Clint had been mummbling nonsense to Coulson. Hardly falling unconcious, hardly wavering.

Coulson coached his protege through the torture, and scowlded him for talking back to the torturer.

Once they got to the base it was as if all hell broke loose. Coulson was a weapon, making a path of death and destruction to the archer. And once he did he found a troubling sight.

"Stop it Coulson, or your little bird will have little less head." Grant Ward sneered. Holding Clint by his hair, and a knife to his throught. Bruises and cuts covered his face. He was pale, and his eyes glazed over, as if not really seeing what was going on.

"Let him go." Coulson growled. "He has nothing to do with these."

"Does he now? I think he has everything to do with these. You like him, no you love him as a son. And you are the only one he looks up too. He has everyright to see his 'father' die. If he's even coherent. He's been up for to long, hasn't eaten in months and I think he has a major concussion." Ward said, tapping Clint's ead with his knife, earning a flinch from the man.

"He's just a kid, let him go." Coulson said.

"Just a kid? He lost his childhood when he became an assassin." Ward said, holding Clint higher in the air.

"Let him go." Coulson said again, making eye contact with Malinda May, who was now behind the rouge agent.

A swift roundhouse kick and Ward was no more than crumpled piece of unconcious crap on the floor. Barton was doing no better. He laid uncoherent on the ground, breathing heavily.

Agent May scooped up her fellow agent and walked out of the room, gathering the troops and headed for the bus. Coulson grabbed Ward and locked him up where he thought Clint had been.

Clint woke up to white, which was too much of a change from the dark everythng in his cell. He got up and started to look for better clothes that the hospital gown things. Finding a pair of jeans that seemed like the would fight, he walked out of the room, only to be met with a very worried looking Coulson.

"I thought I was dreaming." Clint said, reaching out and poking Coulson in the face a couple of times.

"..." Coulsons mouth moved slowly, but Clint still was having trouble focusing.

"Sorry, I can't hear you." Clint said, but then his left foot gave out, and Coulson was holding him. Grabbing his hand and singing his thoats in the archer's hand. "Like that's going to happen." Clint scoffed, only to yelp when he is lifted up and brought back to the hosptal bed.

"Did Hawkeye just yelp?" Skye walked past the place.

"He's not one to be man handled, or picked up, esspecially when his aids are out." Coulson said.

"Where's 'Tasha?" Clint said.

"Who's 'Tasha?" Skye asked.

"Natasha Romanauf. Black Widow, she'll be here shortly." Coulson said.

"I'm right here." The red headed ex-russian said, stepping over to Coulson and giving him a hug, then smacking him pretty hard in the face. "That's for dieing." She growled.

"Hey 'Tashy" Clint said, a little deliriously.

"Hey Clint, long time no see." Natasha said.

"Coulson's not dead." He smirked.

"Yeah, I'm glad too." There conversation continued.

"I thought she was heartless." Skye said.

"Not to Barton. Aren't they married?" Trip asked.

"Sort of. Barton was the one to bring her in. He had orders to take her out, but made a different call." Coulson explained.

"It doesn't even seem like he needs those hearing aids." Simmons pointed out. Their conversation going off with out a hitch.

"That's because he can read lips with out flaw. Always has been able." Coulson said. "May lets set a route to New York. I have a few friends to catch up with."

 **THE END.**

 **Tell me if you want a sequel or something. ?**


	4. Chapter 4

**Srry about the last chapter, must have slipped up, that chapter was for my other story, The Kid.**


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